Harry & the Pirate I: Querida
by geekmama
Summary: In the hours before they are parted, Harry hears the tale of one of the adventures of a very young Jack Sparrow, First Mate on the Black Pearl. Written for a Romance Challenge on Black Pearl Sails.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimers: Disney owns 'em. Many thanks to Hereswith for editing expertise, and to Dove for help with the Spanish phrases, and to Lizzie for allowing me to swipe so much JackHistory from her story, _Picaresque_..

* * *

**_Querida_**

**- 1 -  
**

With the tiny corner of her mind still capable of coherent thought, Harry knew that, as astonishingly delightful as their several previous unions had been, this one was different. This time Jack had taken her apart, moment by moment, bit by bit, delight transforming, imperceptibly, inexorably to something far more intense. She suspected what it was, where he was taking her. She'd heard rumor of it, told in sly whispers, or ribald jest. But rumor was a pale ghost of this Reality. She was learning better now, under his patient, persuasive tutelage. This was utter need, with an edge of madness, losing control, losing herself, and it was… frightening.

She tried to pull away a little, to lessen it, but he growled, _No!_ and kept her with him, insisting, coaxing, with hands and eyes and murmured seduction until, finally, it was too late, and there was no longer a choice. It was not a simple surrender, nor an easy one, his name and God's on her lips, prayer and curse, struggling, clutching hard with fingers, then nails, and then the struggle ending with wrenching pleasure that was nearly pain, and sounds that were both shriek and sob torn from her. It was like fire, or no, deep water. Like drowning.

But he was holding her tight, and as she succumbed, suddenly he was there with her, crying out as helplessly as she, consumed, as she was herself. The realization was both comfort and ecstasy, and she clung fiercely, giving him everything, but taking everything, too, and her heart near to breaking with it.

Long, long moments… or perhaps a lifetime?… And then it was nearly over. Coming back to themselves, breathing deep and shuddery, slowly stilling, their need somehow unquenched.

'Jesus, Harry," he whispered, trembling.

Only his blessed weight upon her spared her the same.

She felt him brush tears from her cheeks with fingers, then lips. "Oh my God," she breathed. It was too much, too much; but still she was a little shocked when, overwhelmed by the exquisite joy and anguish of loving him, she began to weep.

Oddly, he didn't seem to mind.

"Hush, love, 's all right. All right. " He gently withdrew from her (Oh, Loss!) but gathered her against him and held her and soothed her with slow caresses and kisses, and murmured endearments, until at last she grew calmer.

She drew back slightly, brought her hands up to catch his face and hair, making him look. She whispered, "I love you." A risk, maybe, but it had to be taken. But his face held little of scorn, and that little aimed at himself. Stupid! She kissed him with fresh abandon, groaning, and felt him chuffing with laughter under the kiss, and her heart leapt as he hugged her hard against him.

And then, the momentous words in her ear: "I love you, too."

"Jack!" she replied, the word a caress.

"Harry!" He pulled his face back from hers and smiled, astonished. He rubbed his nose against hers. "Good God. Do you know how beautiful you look?"

"Yes, for you look the same, " she smiled, gentling her hand and stroking the beautiful line of his cheek. "Dampish and freshly loved." She settled against the pillows with a sigh of deep content.

He accepted this, and set to studying her, eyes and fingers memorizing her face. Against the hour she'd be gone: all too soon now. The _Dauntless_ had been sighted that morning, and Jack had given the order, permitting them to approach.

This evening they'd each sleep alone.

"Never met a woman I took to as I have you," he mused.

"Never?" Harry was pleased, but skeptical.

And sure enough, he gave a crooked grin. "Never. Although there was one…"

"Only one?"

"Only one. A long time ago. She was a bit like you, y'see."

"Short and brown-haired?"

He smirked at this excess of modesty. "Black hair. A Spanish lass. 'Twas when I was First Mate on the _Pearl_, under old Tobias. Only knew her a few hours, but she was one you didn't forget. Like you."

Harry's eyes narrowed, trying to see in her mind's eye how he must have been then. So young. She smiled. "Tell me of her!"

o-o-o

It was a bloodcurdling shriek that alerted him to her presence.

Prior to that, Jack had considered the raid to have gone extremely well, all things considered. Most of the townsfolk had been quickly subdued and herded into their church, where they were comfortably trussed and, if inclined toward vociferousness, gagged. There were few casualties on either side, though Bootstrap was one, having slipped on a rock as he'd jumped from the longboat, badly wrenching his ankle. Jack, as his friend, had teased him about it, and then, as First, had set him to guard duty in the church, which would save him walking much.

Jack was just considering reporting to the Captain that the town was virtually secured when that shriek came to his ears, issuing from a small house just off the square. It was only the one sound, and cut off rather abruptly, but something about it made his hair stand on end (or it would have, if not for its length and the small mementos of his past that weighted it). Swearing foully, he ran to see what was toward, sword at the ready. As he approached the house, he could hear another voice, one he knew, strained and threatening, yet with an edge of humor and… lust.

He tried the door: unlocked, and he shoved it open. Barbossa, as he'd thought. And a girl, struggling beneath him on the floor, skirts awry, the bastard's big calloused hand stopping her cries.

Without hesitation (or, indeed, much thought beyond _the filthy whoreson!_) Jack strode across the room and grabbed the bigger man by the back of his coat, pulling him up by main force. Barbossa, surprised and furious, roared and would have attacked, so Jack felt no compunction in kicking him in the jaw and following it up with a blow to the head with his sword hilt. It was enough: he fell like so much meat, though how long he'd remain that way was the question.

The girl, on the other hand, had scrambled away and got to her feet, and was now preparing to make a dash for it. Her dress was that of a lady, though she seemed just a slip of a thing, barely come to womanhood. Even so, there was as much anger as fear on the youthful countenance. Jack managed to grab her by the arm before she could run out the door and into harm's way. With a sharp cry, she whipped around and dealt him a resounding slap across the side of his face, open handed.

"Jesus!" he yelped. His grip tightened on her arm and he caught her other wrist as she tried to repeat the assault.

"¡Pirata estúpido, dejame va!" she spat. _Stupid pirate! Let me go!_ She began to kick uselessly at his booted legs, and struggled furiously.

Jack shook her, hard enough to show he was serious, and snapped, "¡Es usted que es estúpido, señorita! Ahora párelo o irá gravemente para usted." _It is you who are stupid, Miss! Now stop, or it will go badly for you._

"_Malvado!_" she hissed, "I am already dishonored! Why should I care what you do?"

Jack, who in subduing Barbossa had noted that great dishonor had certainly been intended but had not been quite accomplished, scolded, "_Querida_, he is a villain, but you are safe, or will be if you will but cease these theatrics!"

"Are you not one of them? Why should I trust you, _Malvado_?" She stomped on his foot, hard.

"Ow! Little fool!" Jack yelped, and was considering some judicious retaliation when Captain Tobias and a couple of the men walked in to see what the fuss was about.

John Tobias was a big handsome man, sartorially magnificent, and possessed of eyes that could look straight through a fellow—or a chit of a Spanish lass. The girl gave a start at the sight of him, and stilled, unconsciously shrinking against Jack, though she kept her head high for all that.

Tobias took in Jack and the girl, and the sight of his Second laid out, unconscious. He uttered a disgusted oath. "Is she all right?" he asked Jack.

"She's right lively," Jack said, with a short laugh. "I came in time."

"Mis apologías, muchacha. Usted puede ser seguro que trataremos de él." _My apologies, girl. I assure you, he'll be dealt with. _The Captain gave her a self-contained bow, only a little ironic.

The girl sniffed, and pulled her arm from Jack's slackened grasp.

"I wouldn't try to run, _muchacha_," Tobias said. "My men are everywhere, and… well… they are what they are." He spread his hands.

"¡Piratas malvados - como éste!" _Evil pirates—like this one!_ She turned her head to look daggers at Jack.

He made a face at her, and then grinned as she reddened in renewed fury.

"Jack! That ain't the way to smooth her feathers, lad!" chided Tobias. He addressed the girl again, more seriously. "What is your name, young lady—for I can tell from your speech you are not lowborn."

"My name is Juana Theresa Alba, and I am the daughter of Don Enrique Flores y Alba. If I come to harm he will kill you!"

"No doubt, _señorita_. But where do you live, for this is not the house of a rich man."

The girl said, "I was visiting my old nurse. She is upstairs, abed, for she is ill, and now she will die knowing I have been dishonored at the hands of that…that _bastardo_!"

At this she gave an angry sob, and broke away entirely, turning to run up the narrow staircase.

Tobias said sharply to the men who'd come in with him: "Truss my Second and take him back to the ship."

"The brig, Captain?"

"Aye. Barbossa'd better learn to school his appetites. We'll be givin' him a little reminder in the morning."

"Aye, Captain."

"Jack, with me," Tobias snapped.

The two pirates went up the stairs, following the little _señorita_.

They found her in one of the bedrooms, speaking frantically to a much larger, older woman who lay abed, covered with a quilt, looking very ill indeed, and most distressed as she listened to her nursling's tale. Then, seeing the two men come into the room, she wailed in fear. "¡Aiiiii, Piratas¡Madre de Dios, preserva mi pequeño Juana de estos fornicators y asesinos!"

Captain Tobias said, "No, _señora_, the little one is safe. You both have only to stay here, to stay hidden."

Juana said to her nurse, "It is true, 'Lita, the young one, he did away with the villain."

"Aieee! He is a murderer!"

There followed a lengthy argument, with Juana's nurse simultaneously insisting that Jack was _el diablo_ – just look at that face, the face of a fallen angel if ever she had seen one- and that Captain Tobias see that her darling girl was safely escorted away from this pirate-infested town and home to Don Enrique, who assuredly would not rest until the _piratas malvados _were all quite dead.

"But _señora_, with the greatest respect, if she stays with you she will be safe, and will be able to care for you as well. Surely you are in need of a helpmeet?" reasoned Tobias.

"No! As she was safe from the evil one that brought you here? Only find my servant, Consuela and bring her to me—the evil one had her taken away to the church, and then remained behind to ravish my darling! She must not stay! She must not! _¡Madre de Dios! Por favor, señor!_"

Tobias, seeing that the woman was close to hysterics, finally sighed, and said to Juana, "Where is your home, _Querida_?"

The girl stiffened at the endearment, but said only, "My father's house is to the east, in the hills above Half-moon Bay. An easy ride, but your band of devils chased off our horses! _¡Piratas estúpidos!_"

Tobias's mouth twitched, and he looked at Jack for confirmation.

"It's true enough," Jack said. "The lads were most diligent about that."

"That right? Well, looks like you're in for a bit of a walk, then, Jack."

Jack gaped briefly, then blurted. "_Me?_ Why me? I'm of more use here, and you know it!"

"I do know it, but who do you suggest we send?"

Juana spoke up at this, looking contemptuously at her unwilling savior. "I will not have this… _gallito_ for a dueña! It is an absurdity!"

Tobias chuckled at the look on his First Mate's face, but said to the girl, "You will have him, _señorita_, for he's a chivalrous streak that's lacking in most of the others."

"Send Bootstrap!" Jack growled. _Gallito_, indeed! He'd 'little cock' her!

"He's a bad ankle, remember?" Tobias's brows arched.

Jack groaned. "Bloody hell."

"Enough!" said Tobias. "Get going, Jack. We'll be finished loading up the swag in an hour or two, then swing round to pick you up at Half-moon Bay at dawn. You know the signal."

"Aye, I know it." Jack threw a look of displeasure at his prospective charge. "Say goodbye to your nurse, then, girl, and we'll be on our way."


	2. Chapter Two

**_Querida_**

**- 2 -  
**

They walked in stubborn silence for a while, but it was quite impossible to maintain even justified annoyance on such a night, the air cool but soft, and scented with night-blooming flowers, and the moon casting its silvery glow over the land, and over his pretty companion as well. The girl had told Jack it was near five miles to her father's hacienda. Jack had groaned at this, but mostly for show. He naturally preferred life aboard the _Black Pearl_, but he'd never been averse to exploration on land, especially when there was a prospect of treasure. Though the acquisition of gold was not the object of this particular exercise, still there was that about the experience that made him think it was worth the trouble, even if it was just for the company of his fiery little charge.

The girl was certainly easy on the eyes, with that thick, shining black braid hanging down that straight back, nearly to the sweetly rounded arse that swayed beneath her long skirts. Jack thought about what that hair would look like, unbraided and brushed smooth, wondered how long it would be, laid like a cape over the pale gold of that slender body. Her complexion was far lighter than his own sun-bronzed skin, and this, along with the fine-boned aristocratic features would have told him something of her lineage even without her unremittingly haughty demeanor. As it was, she had barely spoken to him since leaving her nurse's house, a state of affairs that obviously gave him far too much opportunity to contemplate her physical attributes.

Lord, he was as lecherous as Barbossa, or near it. She was just a girl!

"How old are you, _Querida_?" he demanded suddenly.

She looked down her finely sculpted, slightly aquiline nose—not easy, considering her lack of inches, but she had the trick of it. "Old enough, _Malvado_. And do not address me with endearments. You should be ashamed!"

"Perhaps," he acknowledged, with a wicked smile.

She stopped walking, turned to him, and stated succinctly, eyes ablaze, "If you dare to touch me, my father and my betrothed will hunt you down and kill you like the dog you are."

He damped the smile to a smirk and bowed. "My apologies, _señorita_."

"Humph!" She turned away, and started up the road again.

His eye was again drawn to the swaying skirts. He tried once more. "You are betrothed? How can that be? You're but a girl!"

She gave him a brief look. "I am sixteen. Quite old enough to be a wife."

Her words were belied by her tone: she believed them no more than he. He said, chidingly, "Nonsense! To have a suitor, perhaps—or many of them, surely. But to be a wife? No."

"Nevertheless," she said. "My father wishes to ally our house with that of the Corozóns. I am to marry Don Alejandro, who is the head of that house since his father's death."

"Don Alejandro Corozón?" Jack frowned. "I thought I had met one by that name. Is he recently returned from Spain?"

"He is. How is it you know him, _Malvado_?"

"Why, it is just as you suspect, _Querida_: we took his ship not so many months past."

"You were of the pirate band that attacked the _Santa Inez_!" she exclaimed, looking over at him, startled.

"The very ones," he acknowledged, with an inclination of his head.

She was silent for a moment, and then said, "I should have known. The _Black Pearl_."

"Aye. Fiercest pirates in the Caribbean."

Her pretty lips quivered. "They _all_ say that, no doubt."

Jack laughed. "Like as not, but it's true for all that."

"Don Alejandro reported that you killed no one."

"Where's the use in killing unnecessarily, _señorita_?" Jack studied her profile. "You are sure 'twas _that_ Don Alejandro Corozón? The man I met is old enough to be your father."

"He's thirty-six!"

"Aye?"

"He… he is in the prime of life."

She was trying to convince herself. He said, "As you say, _Querida_."

She walked along in silence, a little crease between her brows. After a while, she spoke again. "I have not met him, you understand."

"No?" said Jack, and obligingly supplied information. "He seems a good man, more of a philosopher than a swordsman I'd guess. But a man of some talent. It was chiefly his doing that there was no bloodshed, and we were most appreciative. Left the _Santa Inez_ plenty of provisions to reach Cuba, though we relieved 'em of some trinkets."

"Two chests of gold!"

Jack grinned wolfishly. "Also as you say."

"_Malvado!_" she accused.

"_Querida!_" he pleaded, eyes alight.

"You are truly shameless!" she said, but a dimple appeared as she suppressed a smile. This faded after a moment and, in a deceptively light tone, she asked, "What does he look like?"

_Don Alejandro_. Jack considered, trying to remember. The phrase _like a Spaniard_ came to mind, but that would tell her nothing. Finally he said, "He is tall, and well made. He was elegantly dressed, but a little disheveled- he thinks of his books more than fashion, I fear. Had an interesting collection of 'em-books I mean. He has kind eyes." The girl looked at Jack, and he frowned thoughtfully, thinking of that middle-aged philosopher's hands undressing this child. Touching her.

She looked away, suddenly. "My father would not give me to one who was not kind, though of course it makes no difference in the end."

When she did not elaborate, he prompted, "No difference, _Querida_?"

She threw him a glance. "Do not call me that," she said again, but her voice was preoccupied. After a pause she said, "My older sister was married to a kind man."

"_Was_?" Jack frowned.

"She…she died in childbed. Three years ago, now."

Jack stared at her, the slight, straight figure, her jaw set, the line of her mouth firm. Jack had seen men with a similar expression, before going into armed conflict. He said, finally, "I am sorry to hear it. Ill-luck, indeed. It is fortunate that you will not suffer the same fate."

She turned to look at him, startled. "And how would you know that, _Malvado_? How can you know what God intends? Or are you indeed _el diablo_?"

He laughed. "Your sister was a gentle soul, obedient to God's will, and her parents'?"

"_Sí!_ Always!"

"Well, there you have it. God wanted her to be with him, to be one of his angels. You, on the other hand, demonstrably have much to learn before you are worthy. You will have a long and fruitful life in pursuit of this knowledge, _Querida. _Never doubt it."

She stared at him, open-mouthed, for a moment, taking in this logic. And then, to his delight, her face lit up and she laughed, the sound like music in the still night.

"Oh, _Malvado_! What a thing to say! And, indeed, it is no more than the truth." She shook her head.

He chuckled. Lord, that smile! Don Alejandro had best be suitably appreciative of this treasure.

She looked up at him, her teeth very white, her dark eyes gleaming. "What is your name?"

"_Malvado_, as you have said," he laughed. "No, my name is Jack Sparrow."

"Zheeeeack Sparrrrrow."

He laughed again at her pronunciation of the very English name. "Juan,_ then._ And Sparrow is _Gorrión_."

"The bird?"

"_Sí_."

"_Juan_ _Gorrión_." The dimple reappeared. "I think _Malvado_ suits you, better, _Juan."_

Jack grinned.


	3. Chapter Three

**_Querida_**

**- 3 -  
**

They walked along briskly then, speaking of this and that, and the miles passed quickly.

Jack told her of life on "the finest, most fearsome pirate ship in the Caribbean" (a somewhat expurgated version, but with enough juicy meat to pique her interest) and a little of his life growing up in England: neither lowborn, nor high, a profligate's bastard, spending his somewhat lonely childhood in the green countryside, in their own little cottage, his mother, and then the local vicar teaching him his letters, trying to keep the quick mind occupied and from mischief, with somewhat indifferent success.

She spoke of her girlhood and her family, and her life of privilege, and her impatience with the shackles of convention, though ultimately she would bend to her father's will with her marriage to Corozón.

"There are but two roads for a woman, my friend," she told Jack, with wry humor and a wisdom beyond her years, "and my temperament is ill-suited to the convent, I fear."

"Oh, _sí_! Of course, there is not so much risk in being a 'Bride of Christ'."

"No," she agreed, thoughtfully. She glanced sidelong at him, coloring a little, and said bluntly, "You have made love to many women?"

He raised a brow. "Now what sort of question is that for a gently bred lady to ask a pirate, eh?"

She gave him an impatient look. "Do not toy with me, _Malvado_! It is a perfectly reasonable question. I think you must have had many women, for my 'Lita was correct about your appearance."

_The face of a fallen angel_. Jack smirked, and purred, "Then why ask, if you already know the answer, _Querida_? Or is it something else you really wish to know?"

She flushed deeper, but said, "Ah! You have guessed it. I wish to know what it is like, you see—to make love. And who better to ask than you, whom I will likely never see after this night, and who is possessed of much knowledge. My Aunt tells me only that it is a woman's duty and that my husband will teach me what I need to know. And my 'Lita tells me to ask my Aunt! No one will tell me anything to the purpose, and I am to be married in a month. _Madre de Dios_ it makes me angry! I am no longer a child!"

Jack's mouth twisted. "_Querida_, I appreciate your candor, and quite understand your curiosity as well, but do you think I am unaffected by speaking of such things, and with a great beauty near at hand? I must beg you: be merciful!"

"A great beauty?" she repeated, blankly, then exclaimed, "Do you mean _me_?"

Jack frowned reproval. "This ingenuousness sits ill upon you, _señorita_."

Juana stared, and then said, "But no! I…you think me beautiful?"

"Good God, _niña_! Have you no mirror?"

"Of course I have! It tells me I am well enough."

"'Well enough'!" Jack shook his head. "I find you absurd, _Querida_. Suffice it to say that Don Alejandro is the most fortunate of men. The good God grant that he keep it in mind, all the days of your lives."

Juana stared up at him. "What a pretty thing to say! You do not sound like a pirate in the least."

Jack shrugged. "And how many pirates have you met, _Querida_? They are no more all alike than other men."

"There was the one who would have ruined me. A very different man than you, I think."

"The dishonor of women is against our code. He will suffer."

She shivered. "What will come to him?"

"A flogging, _niña_. Little enough."

She nodded, and was quiet for a while. Then she said, "So you will not tell me of this thing they name 'love' - the way of a man with a maid?"

Jack sighed, and retorted, "So my entreaties for mercy fall on beautiful but deaf ears?"

"Oh, _sí_. Quite deaf. Tell me."

He chuckled. "Very well, _Querida_, I…" But his voice trailed off as a new sound met his ears, quite suddenly, from around the next bend in the road, a little way ahead.

"_Caballos_!" Juana hissed. She'd no sooner spoken the word than the troop of horsemen came into sight. She gasped, recognizing the intruders in an instant, and noting out of the corner of her eye that Jack's hand had grasped his sword hilt. "No!" she exclaimed, and shoved him into the shadows. "_Pirata estupido_! They are too many! We must hide!"

Jack, who on hearing the horsemen suddenly realized he had been utterly careless in his speech and actions with this engaging child—for in truth, she was hardly more! —had half expected her to break from him and hail the intruders, calling on them to rescue her and to belay her piratical escort. But she did not, instead scolding him like a shrew, and urging him forcibly to safety.

Accordingly, they both scrambled down into a shallow ravine that ran along the road, overhung with trees that kept off the revealing moonlight. Fetching up against the bole of one aged specimen, they stopped, Juana clinging to Jack's arm.

"Hush!" she demanded, imperatively, peering up to where the road lay.

Jack smiled in the darkness, feeling her hands gripping the sleeve of his coat. As the horsemen came closer…closer…they shrank into the deep shadows. And then the threat was passing, with a drumming of hooves, headed up the road in the direction from which the two had come.

"It is the Commandant and his men," said Juana. "They must somehow have received word. I hope your _Capitán_ finished his work quickly, or there will surely be bloodshed."

"I think they will have gone, _Querida_," said Jack. "It is less than an hour 'til night fades."

They stood silently together, until the patrol was well past them. And then Jack took Juana by the shoulders and turned her toward him in the darkness. She put up her hands and placed them against his chest, but made no other objection, and he could see how her great eyes were shining as she looked up at him.

"You did not call them to you, and I thought you might," he said. "I thank you, _mi amor_. "

"Call them?" she repeated. "You thought me capable of such a thing, after you saved me from….that villain? For shame!" She gripped the edges of his coat and gave him a little shake, to emphasize her words.

"_Querida_!" He said slowly, "Trust is a luxury in my life, and I am unaccustomed to the sort of truth we have spoken tonight. Forgive me for doubting." He reached up with one hand, and lay it lightly against the side of her face. To his delight, she tilted her cheek against his hand a little, half-closing her eyes, just for a moment. But then she opened them again, peering at him closely, trying to see him in the shadows.

"No. You are right, _mi amigo_," she said. "I too have trusted, more than I should, perhaps."

There was a moment's hesitation, and then he murmured, "Trust me a little longer, then, _Querida_. Let me show you something of what may lie between a man and a maid."

He drew her close, and felt her breathe his name before his lips met hers, tenderly, tentatively. She was very still, whether from fear or some other emotion, but then she made a little unformed sound and a quiver ran through the slender form. He smiled against her mouth as her arms slid up around his neck, her hands slipping beneath his hair. He withdrew his lips just enough to whisper, "_Ah, Juana!_"

"_Malvado_!" she said, the word belying her meaning.

Another kiss, his embrace less gentle now, one arm about her shoulders, his other hand straying down, past the trim waist, daring to caress the rounded, provocative flesh covered by the heavy skirts, pressing her close against him, briefly indulging his hunger, showing her how very much she was desired. She gave a tiny gasp, but there was no sign of protest. Indeed, another delicious sound of longing escaped her, sweet as music, and her arms tightened around him.

Lord, he thought. Time to end this, before he forgot what she was. What he was. He moved his lips from hers, and thence across her cheek to whisper soft against her ear, "_Mi amor!_"

She uttered a shaky laugh, loosened her hold on him, and looked up. "Am I, _Juan_? Is this part of your truth?"

"For tonight, _Querida_. It is." He let her go then, with great reluctance. She stepped away, and the loss was nearly anguish.

She said, "We should go, _Juan_ _Gorrión_. It…it grows light in the east."

He nodded.

They helped each other climb back onto the road. All was still again, but for the beating of two hearts.

Juana reached out to him. "I wish…" But her voice trailed off, for it was useless to say such things in the face of their separate realities. Her hand fell to her side, a touch of irony in her smile.

Jack's smile mirrored hers, for a moment, but then faded. "I wish, too, _Querida_," he said simply.

They were silent after that, as they continued on the last mile of their journey, but Juana slipped her hand into Jack's, saying all that needed to be said.

Presently they came to the top of the last hill, where they could look down on the pretty hacienda and its outbuildings, laid out around the bay.

"Look!" Turning toward the ocean, Jack pointed to the dark ship riding the swell, waiting to claim her own. He glanced down at Juana, and smiled to see her look of wonder at the sight of the _Black Pearl_.

"Someday, I will be her captain, _Querida_," he said, pride and certainty in his voice.

She smiled. "I do not doubt it."

The moon was setting, and dawn glowed in the east as they made their way down to where the hacienda lay sleeping.

Juana turned to Jack as they reached the gate. He picked up the hand that he had been holding all this while, placed a kiss on her fingers, and released her.

"_Via con Dios, Juana Alba_."

"_Y tú_, _Juan Gorrión_," she said, her voice husky. "I will not forget you."

She left him then, and began to walk toward the house, the little figure slim and very straight, her shining braid swaying. But before she'd gone far, he spoke, as though compelled. "_Querida_!"

She hesitated, but then turned back, to face him, her face pale and perfect in the faint light, and she did not smile but simply looked.

He said, slowly, "If it chances that Don Alejandro should fail to be worthy of such a treasure, send word."

Her eyes widened as she took in all the implications of this statement. A little smile tugged at her lips. She nodded once, gravely, and turned again, and walked quickly to the house, and she did not look back.

But Jack waited in the shadows by the gate until Juana had opened the heavy door and slipped inside, and in the pale light he heard the startled greetings of the few servants who had risen with the dawn, and of Juana's own sweet voice, exclaiming: "No, indeed, I am well! 'Lita is safe with Consuelo, and I escaped from them! It was the _Black Pearl, amigas! _The fiercest pirates in the Caribbean!"

o-o-o

"So you had only the one kiss of her! How very sad."

Jack raised a brow and looked quite shocked at this sentiment. "She was sixteen, Harry! Little more than a child, for all she was betrothed."

"Humph" his love scoffed, "I remember sixteen quite well, in spite of my advanced years, and girls ripen early in these warmer climes. She wanted you, and you barely touched her, honorable as you are!""

He snorted. "She may have thought she did."

"You would have been so good to her. You would have been first, and she would have loved you all her life."

"As you loved Fanshawe?"

That made her pause, but then she frowned, her eyes holding a rueful twinkle. "No, not at all. You are nothing like Charles. You… you _think_."

"I do now. _And_," he added, when she opened her mouth to object, "I suppose I did then." His smile faded, and he hesitated, and stroked her flushed cheek with his knuckle. "Did he hurt you?" It was barely a question, for he already knew the answer.

And there was something in his eyes that made Harry think it well the Duke was safe underground. "He did," she said, her voice unsteady. "But that was another journey. This time, you came with me, just as you did with Juana."

He gave her a kiss, eyelids drooping now, his fingers drifting, light and slow, across her breast, and then lower. "Not _quite _the same. And you weren't a maid of sixteen, were you, love?"

With a sigh of delight, she renewed her own explorations, but chuckled ruefully. "Nearly as untutored, however. Fortunately I seem to be a very quick study." She arched suddenly beneath his touch, and gasped, "_Ah! Jack!_" His mouth came down on hers, muffling her little cries, and she gradually relaxed, trembling, into his touch. Then he gentled the kiss and pulled his lips away, enough to feel her quickened breath upon them, and to look into her eyes, his own full of intended mischief.

"_Malvado!_" she murmured, smiling.

He smiled, too, at that and trailed kisses across her cheek. And then, as her questing hand found what it had been seeking, his own breath caught, before he gave a pleased sigh, and whispered, "_Querida!_"

**_- Finis -  
_**


End file.
